


Droog's Illness

by DroogleSearch



Category: Homestuck Intermission - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Horrorterrors - Freeform, Midnight Crew - Freeform, Mobsterswitch, Other, magic sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DroogleSearch/pseuds/DroogleSearch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Droog has used his magic too much. But he won't let that be his end.<br/>If anything's killing him...<br/>It's gonna be himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Droog's Illness

Now, Droog used shadow magic more than one would know. He used it for cigarettes and arson, when he wanted. Lighters were expensive nowadays. But he didn't figure that it would end up to this. Him, leant on a wall, nails dug into the plaster as he up chucked ink all over his bedroom carpet. What a mess.  
He coughed, spitting out some ink before wobbling to his feet, wiping his mouth. Shit. He looked down at the ink, knowing it wouldn't wash easy. He sighed, looking down at his hands. They were shaking. He scowled, he was weak. He was weak and pitiful, and it was not him. It was not normal. He coughed softly, before wandering to the bathroom to see how he looked.  
He looked like shit, actually. He stood against the sink, staring at his crooked frown and sunk eyes, his slightly flushed shell...  
He coughed, then gagged and spilled ink into the sink, shuddering as he hacked. He then hiccupped, coughing as he then shuddered and slumped. Fuck. He hoped nobody walked in on this. He spat, beginning to wash his mouth out when Spades opened the door. Fuck.  
He frowned, tiredly trying to explain before more ink forced its way up. He hacked and gagged, giving a groan once he was sure his stomach was emptied. He felt dizzy. He weakly held the sink edges, before...  
"Droog, holy shit... You feelin' okay...?"  
"F... Fine, Spades... I'm... Hhrk... Fine..."  
"Y'don't look too-"  
"I SAID... I'M FI- hhk-" He had started off angry, but soon forgot his stress as he found himself gagging and hacking. He coughed, shuddering as Spades patted his back.  
"Jesus... I’m gettin' Innavater, he migh' know somethin'..."  
Droog attempted to again hiss that he didn't need help, but it just came out as a hoarse snarl.  
A few days went. He refused to leave. The trip to Innovator's city was much too long for their cruddy cars, and Droog didn't seem to be able to make his way there.

Spades had made the other stay in bed, forcing him to just wait as he tried to get Innovator to come and help. Droog just stayed in bed, struggling with trying to not choke on his own ink as he grew more furious with his weakness.  
Droog did not. Like. Being weak. It wasn't him. He wasn't this. It was wrong. He growled under his breath, refusing to be that pathetic as he tried pushing himself up out of bed. Spades quickly put him back in, leaving the male to bare his teeth in frustration.  
He was beginning to question this. Was the pain worth it? Was he really going to force himself to stay awake…? To stay alive? He sighed, curling up on his side as his head throbbed. He couldn’t sleep. They were stronger then. If he slept… He’d get sicker. He had. To stay. Awake.  
He caught himself biting on his lip, but when he stopped, he found himself vomiting. Ink stained the bed, and he curled up, gagging. He couldn’t keep doing this, he couldn’t. Innovator had told them he’d die. No way to stop it. No cure.  
If he was going out, it was with a bang.  
He got up, wavering before toughening himself up, fixing his suit. He grabbed his cue stick, exiting his room with a hand on the wall. “Spades.” He spat. “We’re… hrrk… Going to the Felt Manor… NOW.” Spades was confused, and attempted to argue, but shut up when he yelled. Spades sighed and complied, guiding him along as the other hissed he could walk on his own. He managed to get to the cars before he retched and vomited next to the car- now, it wasn’t just ink. Blood and the actual contents of his stomach mingled with the black gunk, making a gross splat on the pavement. He sank down against the car.  
They drove.  
Upon arriving to the green manor, Droog went and, with as much force as he could manage, kicked the door open. It gave way, but it hurt for once… He stumbled in, gripping the door as he growled a demand to see Die. He had unfinished business with him.  
The man was almost attacked, but they pitied him enough to guide him up to the room. The cooped-up male looked out, only to squeak at seeing Dr- oh. He’s calmed down at seeing the ink.  
Droog went to hiss some kind of insult, but found himself vomiting ink again. Every use of his magic was catching up to him. He hacked, shuddering as he gripped the wall.  
With an eerie calmness, Die came over and quietly took the male by his tie, eyes wide still. “I s-see. You’re headed to Brother… It’s okay. You’re okay. Sit down. Sleep. Sleep it away. Your life. It’s… okay. You’re okay.” Die spoke softly, forcing the male to his knees against the wall. He knelt by him, eyes still wide and vacant as he seemed to comfort him, willing him to close his eyes.  
Droog was dying. This was true. Crowbar spotted him like this and raised his crowbar, only for Die to stop him. “No. He’ll die. Peacefully. In rest… He will be content... It is a quiet death. He likes quiet. He’s okay. It’s okay. Okay.” He quietly set a hand against Droog’s nec—  
A shaky hand quickly blocked him- It was Innovator. “N-nonono— stop—“ Die stopped as asked, looking up at the male. His paranoia returned and he hiccupped, hiding from the stranger behind Crowbar. Innovator looked down at the pathetic man, smacking him to wake him. He hissed, then coughed, shuddering as ink drizzled out of his mouth. Innovator heaved him up, frowning.  
“Y-yo-you need to… U-understand. That wh-when you die, d-… d-don’t come back…” Scoffclaw was still fresh in his mind… He began to try and walk the other out, but Droog snarled in defiance, grabbing Die by his throat. Crowbar tried to move and swing, but Innovator caught the hit in his hand, wincing. “S-st-stop— Both of y-you—“ Droog did not listen. He gripped Die’s neck, beginning to strangle him as he hissed angered phrases. Die was surprised, but… He suddenly latched a hand on, his strange eye flickering.  
He growled, gripping Droog’s carapace wrist. He dug his nails into the cracks, blue ink beginning to gather and drizzle from his mouth. He then bore his teeth, ripping into Droog’s shell and flesh. Droog dropped him with a cry, gripping his wrist furiously as he bled. He tried summoning a flame, but it just puddled down into ink… He scowled, holding himself up as he continued to attempt. Innovator frowned- it was so pitiful… So… Familiar… It hurt to watch him fight like Scoffclaw... He looked away, at least it wasn’t Detective… But he did bring that fella—  
Inspector ran over, eyes wide and hair messy, hat fallen off. He quickly moved to Droog, wrapping his arms around him to hold him up. “Pl-pl-please— st-stop—“ The man whimpered, hugging Droog close to try and restrain him. Droog snarled, hissing for the other to let go. However, a dizzy spell left him unable to argue any longer. He slumped in the other’s arms, shuddering as he was left to ache and cough.  
Die again attempted to strangle him- this time, from his doll. Droog gave a restricted hack, asphyxiation combining with the ink in his throat. He was drowning. He gurgled and squirmed, Inspector looking ready to sob. He held him up, shaking as he tried to help Droog.  
Innovator snatched the doll and pocketed it, leaving Droog to vomit ink and hack, taking pathetic breaths. Inspector found himself covered in ink, but he was too worried to care that his coat was ruined. He clung to him, whimpering as he tried to help. Droog tiredly asked the other let him finish what he came to do, but they refused, Die moving to hide as blue ink flooded down his bottom jaw. Seems Droog had triggered his odd ink.  
Droog weakly forced himself up, shaking as he looked down at the still-clung male. He didn’t have the strength to shove him off, so he just weakly mumbled “eventually” as he limped to the stairs. Innovator picked him up and floated off his feet, beginning to carry him down. Inspector nervously followed, eyes wide and scared. Droog suddenly hacked, and red instead hit his clothes. Oh dear.  
Inspector panicked at the sight and ran off to get him something to help- tea? No, tea wouldn’t help, water maybe. He ran into Itchy on the way, whimpering as he tried to reque- there he goes. Oh well. He ran in and got a cup of water, bringing it to the sick male. But by then, the carpet in front of him was red and black, Innovator holding the now unconscious man upright. Inspector panicked and dropped the cup, rushing over.  
He held the other close, panicking as he tried to make sure he was still breathing… Oh, god, the fear was painful. He was still breathing, but hardly. He held the now cold male against himself, whimpering as he began to cry. Droog was unconscious in his grip, limp and silent excepting his coughs of ink and blood. He weakly hugged him close, sobbing into his shoulder.  
Droog eventually woke again, but just barely. He opened his eyes feebly, teeth bore as he tried to maintain himself. He pathetically produced a box of matches, mumbling. “Ligh’…. Ligh’me a… Cig…” Innovator paled. There was ink everywhere. Inspector unknowingly struck the match, but found himself yanked away quickly as the ink went up in flames. However, it was swiftly put out- not Matchsticks.  
Die stood, eyes hollow and blue as he held ink in his palms- blue, soaking the other ink down to put out the flame. He moved down, again attempting to strangle Droog out. Inspector begged him to stop, sobbing as he tried to move Droog away. He couldn’t fight. He just… Sat… Innovator couldn’t look to stop it- Droog was… Smiling. Just like him. Droog grinned pathetically as he was strangled, causing Die to crookedly smile back, hands latching tighter.  
Inspector wailed and managed to pull him away, clung to him as he bawled. Someone had called Braud, because she ran in, taking her dear Inspector away. She comforted him, but he just sobbed, blaming himself as Die gripped the man’s neck tighter again. Droog eventually fell still, the crooked smile frozen on. He was dead. The ink began to melt away, hissing as it dissolved.  
Droog… Was well dead. Sickness can be cruel, hm?


End file.
